As the Comanchero cupped his hands around the fullness of her breasts, his...

As the Comanchero cupped his hands around the fullness of her breasts, his attention shifted to the medallion she had been wearing, concealed from Uncle Henry under her dress. His bleary eyes sharpened, then went wide. He jerked his hands away and quickly crossed himself.
"
" He scrambled backward, his gaze riveted to Loretta's heaving chest. "El Lobo!" he cried. "Do not touch her."
As if by magic, Loretta found herself unhanded. She blinked dazedly, not quite sure what had happened. Indeed, the yard had gone deathly silent. She sat up slowly, clutching her ruined bodice. The men who held Amy were studies in motion, their eyes wide with fear. Loretta glanced down. She stared at the crude stone medallion that rose and fell against her bosom. And then it struck her. El Lobo, the wolf. Hunter of the Wolf. Her friend had protected her with something more than just lances in the yard. He had left his mark on her person. A hysterical laugh welled in her throat. And then relief swept through her. They were afraid to harm her! She pushed to her knees. The Comancheros were scattering as if they'd just come face to face with Satan himself.